They’re pearl
diving Polynesians because they know where to dive, how to get down there, where
to look, what to pick out when they’re down there, and how to get back up with
it.

Ok, time for a
word interlude. (What’d you expect? c’est moi, David, he who “broods over
words.”)

Sophomore.

Let’s dive into
it.

The Greek word sophos means wise. The word sophisticated,
for example, is fruit from the same tree.

Okay, that’s
halfway along the high wire of the word sophomore.

Let’s go all the
way over.

The Greek word moros means foolish. The word moronic is
fruit from that tree.

Put ‘em together –
conjoin them with the ring of that middle “o” – you get soph-o-more: sophomore. You get, in short, wise
moron, wise fool – a wet-behind-the-ears plonker who thinks he’s got it figured
out but in reality doesn’t know jack squat.

In the rem acu tetigisti observation of Daniel
Boulet: “if you think that you understand the City of London, then you clearly
don’t understand the City of London.”

London Walks
guides are pearl divers for 51.5072° N, 0.1275° W.(Yes, you got it – those are the Latitude
and Longitude coordinates for London.)

This is not
something you do off the boat (so to speak). Well, anybody can dive in – but
you can’t do it properly unless you know what you’re doing, know the waters,
know the depths, know what’s down there. Know how to get down there and get
back up with the best stuff.

Ok, howzabout a case in point? David Low’s
studio in Hampstead. The sophomore –
like the walkers – isn’t going to know where it is. Or if he is lucky enough to
spot the plaque that’s as far down as he’ll go.

Whereas a great
guide, well…

This maybe:

“Up there, in that
studio – that’s where Colonel Blimp was born.”

And…

“That door there,
if the Nazis had got here there would have been storm troopers kicking that
door in. Storm troopers “just following orders.” Orders in the shape of a nod
from a hard-eyed, black leather trench-coated Gestapo type.”

And that’s by way
of saying David Low was on Hitler’s shit list. One of many names to be rounded
up and “dealt with” when the Nazis got here.

The screaming
little defective in the Reich Chancellery wasn’t best pleased with the way
David Low “cartooned” him.

Anyway, those are
the “pearls” this London Walks “diver” brings up from “down there.”

And as long as
we’re at it, was tempted to say “some jumped up Gestapo functionary – his eyes glowing like plated Mars.”

Tempted because,
yes, I’m re-reading – must be the eighth or ninth time – Shakespeare’s Antony & Cleopatra. For my
Shakespeare’s London Walk.

And to lean into
the hairpin:

Well’s pretty well
full up. Talking about the RAM – the memory – on this Mac.

So, desperate to
free up some space I went where I never go – into the Spam File of the Email programme.
Thinking, “get in there and hit DELETE, might free up a megabyte or two or
ten.”

And sure enough,
amongst the rest of the steaming pile of crap in there, a couple of those “add
three inches” come-ons.**

And?

SNAP!

That’s what. SNAP!
Because I’m re-reading Antony &
Cleopatra.

Cleopatra’s
handmaidens Iras and Charmian are having their fortunes told by a soothsayer.

Here’s the bit of
dialogue in question.

Soothsayer

Your fortunes are alike.

IRAS

But how, but how? give me particulars.

Soothsayer

I have said.

IRAS

Am I not an inch of fortune better than
she?

CHARMIAN

Well, if you were but an inch of fortune
better than

I, where would you choose it?

IRAS

Not in my husband's nose.

Spam. Shakespeare. A London Walks literary walk. A London Walks pearl
diving guide. That all-important London Walks motif: it’s all about making connections.*** To wit: that moronic –
sophomoric? – MP recently sexting a
male tabloid journalist who’d posed as a wide-eyed, pretty, young Baltic female
Conservative party groupie…When the, er, tale emerged it was headlined, in one
tabloid, “Look at the Size of My Majority.” Greatly contributing to the gaiety
of the nation, needless to say. Also needless to say, that’s gaiety in the old
fashioned sense of the word.

There’s nothing new under the sun. (Apart from maybe the, er, inflation,
In short [yes, I know], one inch in Shakespeare’s day has, now, in the Land of
Digital Diddleyums, swollen – so to speak – to three inches.)

*In his book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell, The New Yorker star staff writer, says
it takes 10,000 hours to become supremely proficient at something. 10,000 hours
to become a master craftsman – to get really good at what you do.

You want that
translated into London Walks terms? Figure about five years to become a top
flight guide.

About five years. That’s
if someone’s starting from scratch.

And that in turn is
why the bar to entry here is so high – namely
a professional background. By
definition accomplished professionals aren’t “starting from scratch.” (By bar
to entry I mean of course what people have to bring to the party before we’ll
even consider them for a place on the
London Walks team of guides.)

**Aside: what sort
of low lifes go in for that line of work? And, the other side of that coin,
what sort of moron takes the bait, gets out the credit card and forks out?

***Making connections is the motif that
perhaps best gets at what’s important, how it’s done, what we do. And no wonder
it’s good – it was coined by one of the all-time great
London Walks pearl divers: Adam. Who into the bargain is the Daily Constitutional Editor!

A
London Walk costs £10 – £8 concession. To join a London Walk, simply meet your
guide at the designated tube station at the appointed time. Details of all
London Walks can be found at www.walks.com.